


The Seeker - Interlude: Later

by vehlr



Series: AU: The Seeker [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Gratuitous Smut, Interlude
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-06-09 21:03:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6923275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vehlr/pseuds/vehlr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Now,” he murmurs, forehead resting against hers, “where were we?”</p>
<p>The follow-up to the Troubled Trevelyan case, and the inevitable fallout. Finally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Seeker - Interlude: Later

“Where were we?”

Cassandra takes stock at Varric’s words. Only the day before, they had been work colleagues, nothing more. And now… now he had her pressed up against his body, her heart racing as his hand slides along her thigh.

“We were… agreeing that this is a good move,” she murmurs.

He smiles, a wry twist of the lips that promises much. “Definitely a good move,” he agrees, leaning in to kiss her neck. “But I think we were actually about to make a better move.”

“We - _oh!_ ” She laughs as he hoists her off his lap and onto the desk, one knee either side of her thigh as he tips her back against the papers. “Varric -”

“I have promises to keep.” He grins down at her, tendrils of hair falling from the band that kept it from his face.

She reaches up to brush it behind his ear. “You need promise me nothing,” she murmurs, “only that this is not a passing thing.”

His smile softens, and he cups her cheek lightly. “Cassandra, I… I _do_. I really do.”

They cannot say it. They cannot say that word that sits so full and bright between them, but she feels it in his tender touch, feels his need to hear her acknowledge it too.

“I do,” she whispers. “But you can see that, can you not?”

He nods. “Yeah.”

“Good.”

“You can see it too.” He swallows. “You - I mean, look at me. _Really_ look at me. You _can_ see it, can’t you?”

She laughs. “I cannot read you the way you read me.”

“Not yet,” he murmurs, tilting her head back to meet his lips. “But give it time.”

Any retort she might have had is lost to the kiss, her body arching to press against his as a soft noise escapes her throat.

For over a year she had denied herself any sort of affection, had managed to crawl from self-hatred over her survival to an acceptance of her own worth in the world. But Varric… Varric looks at her with such need, such desire, that any arguments she might still hold against herself fall horribly short.

In that moment, she loves herself, because anything less would be a failure in his eyes.

He crawls down her body, fingers pulling her trousers down her legs with care. Something of her anticipation must show on her face, for when he meets her eyes he grins again.

“Easy, Cassandra. I promised, didn’t I?”

She tries to sit up, but he gently presses her back against the desk, and she huffs. “Varric, you are -”

“I,” he says softly, “am enjoying this. Seeing you bare and wanting.”

Her lips quirk into a smile. “You have seen me bare before.”

“Not like this,” he says, and there is more than desire in his tone. “This is… this is sacred.” His hand slides slowly up her leg, thumb brushing over the inside of her thigh, and she shivers.

“Varric -”

He smiles up at her. “Lie back,” he advises her, “and let me savour this.”

She watches his eyes - that is where the Gift lies, if you know where to look. His pupils dilate a fraction, his focus sharp, and her breath catches as the corner of his mouth lifts into a wry smile.

And then he shifts, sliding her legs over his shoulders, kissing the inside of her thighs. She hums her pleasure, savouring the languid swipes of his lips against her skin. If there was such a place as the Golden City, she thinks wickedly, this would be it. Her lover between her thighs, her troubles far away.

And then he shifts again, and -

“Oh -” Her head drops back against the desk with a dull thud, eyes closing as her focus shrinks to the space between her legs where Varric pays diligent attention to her body. “Oh,” she repeats, softer now as her hands curl around the edges of the desk. “ _Oh_ ,” she repeats again, voice soft and far away.

His mouth presses against her heat, tongue darting out to taste her as his hands slide over her hips, holding her close. Every part of him connected to her is hot, a heat that swells deep in her, one that she knows has been building for a long time. Here, now, he stokes that fire with his tongue, one thumb gently pressing against her clit as she whines approval. Maker, but he knew what he was doing!

She wants more -

Varric slowly presses a finger inside her, even as the thought comes to her mind, and Cassandra’s hips rise up, a soft whimper from her lips. He _knew_ , oh, he knew her body so well already - he was going to make good on that promise, she realises with a jolt.

“Varric -”

He drags his tongue, slow but firm, and she wails.

“Please -”

His free hand tightens around her hip, almost bruisingly close as he holds her down, a second finger joining the first, and she squirms, the coiling heat getting tighter and tighter.

“Varric – oh, Maker, Varric, _yes_ -”

Her fingers tighten around the edge of the desk, body trembling as his fingers plunge in and out of her, wicked tongue spurring her pleasure on to heights she could not have managed alone. Head thrown back, legs tightening around his shoulders, she tenses -

“ _Varric_ \- ”

The scream, as he had promised, rips from her as her body rails against the flood of sensation, back arching and arms collapsing and fingers curling as she rides the orgasm out on his hand. She does not remember how she came to end up in his arms in the chair, but she buries her face into his neck as her breathing evens out, one hand weakly clutching at his shirt.

“Hey,” he murmurs, “still with me?”

“Mm,” she manages, and he laughs, kissing her head.

“Glad you trusted me?” He is smug, and she has to concede he has every right to be – she is not entirely certain her body will _ever_ recover fully, but she slings an arm lazily around his neck and pulls him into a hard kiss in lieu of words.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he laughs, and she presses her forehead against his.

“Always,” she breathes.

“Now, I can’t promise it’ll be like that every time -”

“You can stop now,” she says quietly, smiling as his eyes soften and his shoulders relax. “I know it is tiring. You do not have to do that again.”

“I might,” he offers, “especially if I get that sort of reaction again.”

She laughs, cupping his face in her hands. “I mean it. When we return from dinner, if I see a hint of that Gift in your eyes I will stop what pleasurable things I am doing straight away.”

He stills. “Wait, what?”

“After dinner,” she repeats. “We _do_ need to eat, Varric.”

“No, go back to the part where you’re doing pleasurable things -”

She cuts him off with a firm kiss, smiling as she pulls back.

“What things?” he asks.

“You can read me,” she says with a smirk of her own, “you tell me.”

He grins. “I'd like to hear you say it.”

She slides forward off the desk and into his lap, hips grinding against the bulge in his trousers, and he groans.

“I am going to fuck you,” she whispers in his ear.

“Oh, mother of Andraste, that's _hot_.”

She chuckles, kissing his temple before pulling away, lifting herself off him and retrieving her trousers. “But first, food.”

He whines as she redresses, but the smile she catches out of the corner of her eye warms her heart. This thing between them, the word they could not say… it was sweet. Cassandra has very much missed having something sweet in her life.

She clings to it, just in case.


End file.
